Violent Ends
by aehawthorne
Summary: Felicity had expected Helena to come after her. She expected her to force her to find the address of the safehouse where her father was being kept. She even expected, when Helena left her tied up on the floor of the IT department, that Oliver would come to rescue her eventually. What she didn't expect was that all of this would put Oliver on the warpath.


Sitting at her desk in the IT department, alone, as was often the case, Felicity took to doing what she always did when her regular day job related work wasn't holding her attention- she multitasked. She began combing through the web, her fingers flying across her keyboard, searching for anything that might help determine the Huntress' whereabouts or what her next move might be. It was then that she came across a particularly troubling police report. Felicity picked up the phone from her desk and dialed it without looking, not entirely surprised to realize that she'd memorized Oliver's phone number.

"Come on, come on, pick up, pick up," she muttered under her breath, listening to it ring. She understood that Oliver had a life outside of his vigilanteing, that he wasn't going to or expected to be on call 24/7, but damn it, this was _important_.

_He must be busy doing something with his girlfriend_, Felicity thought to herself after a few more minutes of listening to Oliver's phone ring.

"Hey," she said when his voicemail picked up. "I was multitasking and intercepted a police report- a local sporting goods store was just robbed of one high-powered crossbow. Now, could be a crazy coincidence, _or _your psycho ex girlfriend- Dig's words, not mine- is still in town. I will let you know if I learn anything more. In the meantime, watch your back." The last word ended up being drawn out unnaturally as Felicity turned her chair and saw Helena Bertinelli standing near the doorway of the IT department, dressed in a purple and black leather get-up complete with mask, crossbow in hand and at the ready.

"Hi," she said mockingly. "I don't think we had the chance to be properly introduced this morning."

_Frack,_ Felicity thought, dropping the receiver in her hand back into its cradle, cutting her phone call short. She could only hope that Oliver would hear Helena in the voicemail she'd just left him and know that there was trouble.

"What do you want?" she asked, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.

"I want to know where my father is," Helena snarled. "And you're going to help me find out."

"And why would I do that?" Felicity asked with a defiance she did not truly feel. The truth was, she was terrified, but she couldn't let Helena see that, and she definitely couldn't just let her have what she wanted.

"Well, you said you've been 'dying' to hack into the FBI's security system," Helena answered with a smirk, leveling her crossbow at Felicity's chest just in case the threat hadn't been clear enough. "Now's your chance." Gathering up her courage, Felicity shook her head.

"No," she said. "I won't help you." In the next instant, Helena slammed her head down against her desk hard enough to send it spinning and make her ears ring. The moment she managed to straighten back up, blinking the spots from her vision, the tip of a crossbow bolt was pressed against her throat. Felicity felt fear coat her insides with ice. The only other person she'd ever seen move that fast was Oliver. It was more clear than ever to her in that moment that Helena possessed all of his physical strength and skill but none of his restraint. For all that Oliver had hoped that the training he had given her would help her find some way of channelling her anger into something constructive, it clearly hadn't worked. Felicity knew now that refusing to give in to her demands wouldn't stop her, that if Helena couldn't gain her submission she would simply kill her and find some other way of getting what she wanted.

With that in mind, Felicity lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. The crossbow bolt was moved away from her neck, and the sudden release of the pressure against her throat made her gasp. Helena moved behind her as she set her fingers against her keyboard once more, obsessively watching her every move from over her shoulder. No chance of surreptitiously sending out some kind of SOS, then.

As she worked, for the first time in her recent memory, Felicity didn't feel pride in what she was doing. She would have if she'd been doing it for Oliver, if it had been something she was doing to help him save the people of the city, but that wasn't the reason, and that combined with the circumstances under which this was happening had her feeling nothing but guilt. Frank Bertinelli might not have been a good person, but he didn't deserve to die, and certainly not at the hands of his rage maddened daughter.

"Hurry up," Helena growled, jabbing Felicity between the shoulder blades with her crossbow.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Felicity assured her. "This isn't easy, you know, despite how I make it look."

Finally, Felicity found what Helena wanted. She scribbled the address down on the notepad beside her computer, then tore the page off the pad and handed it over her shoulder to Helena. The next thing she knew, Helena was kicking her chair out from under her and she was crashing to the floor with a cry of surprise and pain.

"What are you doing?" she asked when Helena crouched down beside her.

"Making sure you don't go running off to tell Oliver about my plan," Helena replied coldly, yanking her arms behind her back and binding her wrists together with electrical tape. A moment later, she did the same with her ankles. "It should be hours before anyone finds you in here. I'll be long gone by then." With that said, she stepped past Felicity and disappeared around the side of her desk. The sound of her footsteps receded into the distance, and Felicity was alone.

Alone was the last thing she wanted to be. She was the last person in her department still at work. The whole floor was probably empty, and there was no guarantee of a rescue from Oliver, no guarantee that he even knew that anything was amiss. Helena was right- it would be hours, maybe even morning, before anyone found her, and all she could do was lie there, silent tears of terror and shame slipping down her cheeks, feeling her hands and left side go numb and guilt eating away at her.

Felicity didn't know how much time had passed when she heard someone call out "Felicity?" in a voice tinged with fear and worry, only that it had been long enough that she'd finally run out of tears to cry. She knew that voice, would know it anywhere- Oliver was here. He'd come to save her, and she almost started crying again, this time with relief.

"Oliver," she managed to call out in a trembling voice. "Oliver." She heard him jog toward where she was lying, the heavy boots he always wore thudding against the carpet.

"I'm here," he said, and she felt something slice through the tape around her wrists. The tape around her ankles met the same fate a moment later. "You okay?" Felicity didn't answer, her voice in that moment failing her.

"Hey, hey," Oliver whispered as she sat up, cupping one hand around the back of her head and staring deep into her eyes. "You okay?" This last was said almost under his breath, so quietly that Felicity nearly didn't hear it. Nearly. She nodded and clasped Oliver's wrist with one hand in silent reassurance.

They heard footsteps, and Oliver straightened suddenly, ready to throw the knife in his hand at whoever was coming in.

"I got your call," Dig said, coming to an abrupt halt just inside the door at the sight of Oliver apparently ready to kill. He held one hand out toward him in a calming gesture. Glancing toward Felicity, he asked "What happened?"

"Helena," Oliver growled in answer.

"She wanted the address of the safehouse where her father is being kept," Felicity explained, rising to her feet. "She made me hack the FBI database. I'm sorry Oliver."

"Hey," Oliver said breathlessly, grabbing her arm. "It's not your fault." Felicity found herself smiling, if only a little, and she couldn't stop her hand from lingering on Oliver's arm as he pulled away from her.

"Oliver, what're you gonna do?" Dig asked as Oliver moved past him toward the door. His voice was tinged with panic. They could both see that Oliver was in a rage, and they had no idea what he might do because of it.

"What I should have done in the first place," Oliver snarled, pausing in front of the door, and then he was gone.


End file.
